


Precedent

by Cephy



Category: Last Remnant
Genre: First Time, M/M, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-14
Updated: 2010-05-14
Packaged: 2017-10-10 16:45:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cephy/pseuds/Cephy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hadn't expected to like this part so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Precedent

He hadn't expected to like this part so much. Had never really thought of himself as _playful_\-- it wasn't suited to the dignity of a Marquis, after all. This, however-- rolling across the sheets, kissing Rush, touching Rush, laughing and teasing with no thought for how it could affect his own image-- it was a new thing, one that left him feeling strangely light.

It was all Rush's influence, no doubt; so many things in his world had started to change when Rush arrived on their doorstep. And David couldn't quite bring himself to mind.

They slowed, settled, and David found himself on his back with Rush curled over him, kneeling between his thighs-- and David surprised himself again with the sudden stab of _want_ the position inspired. It wasn't that he had been unaware of the prospect. Not that he hadn't occasionally thought about it, even, though it was more typically a vague imagining accompanied by four strong sovani arms pinning him down. That was a balance of power he understood.

But with another mitra? He couldn't say he'd ever had the particular desire to put himself under anyone else, in any sense of the word.

But this was Rush. Rush, who didn't seem to care that he was a Lord, had never used their relationship to ask anything for himself and would probably never even think of doing so. Rush, who was warm and solid as he braced himself over David's chest, hips resting comfortably against David's thighs, shaking in the last echoes of a laugh.

David thought of Rush's boundless energy on the battlefield, his fierce joys and intense focus, and it all came down to a single imagined image of that lovely body inside of his. The wash of heat over his skin at the thought made David moan aloud.

Rush hummed an inquiry; David, his body making the decision for him, met it with a roll of his hips, and his legs shifted to hook over Rush's thighs. Rush drew back at first, looking faintly startled, but David gave him a smile of invitation and soon Rush's returning grin left him near-breathless. A second later, Rush's kiss handily finished the job, stealing what breath he had left.

Well-versed in the necessary measures, if typically from the opposite vantage, Rush reached for their flask of oil and slid down David's body, licking his lips. The hot touch of his tongue distracted David seamlessly from the initial intrusion of Rush's finger, though he soon found that he didn't need a _distraction_, per se, to enjoy the prod of that finger as it worked him open. David leaned his head back, one arm across his eyes, the other curled down to cup the curve of Rush's jaw, touch across the sweep of his brow.

When Rush rose up over him again, David caught his breath-- in lust, in anxiety, in anticipation, he couldn't have rightly said-- and then lost it again at the first press of Rush's flesh. He knew, so well, what that hot drag of skin felt like from the other side, but this-- this raw sensitivity, the sheer unfamiliarity of being touched and filled where such had never happened before, it left him dazed. He didn't quite recover his wits until Rush moaned lowly in his ear, nearly inaudible, and the press of him settled itself inside all the way. And then instinct took them over, moving them against each other, Rush rocking them with an increasingly demanding pace and David arching up meet it with a newfound eagerness.

David rode through the first wave of his release with a shaking sense of vulnerability, spread wide open and invaded, and if he were with anyone but Rush it would have been unbearable. Of course, if he were with anyone but Rush, it wouldn't have happened in the first place. And Rush's shoulders were shaking, trembling as he jerked his hips forward one more, twice, then stilled.

Rush sighed after a moment, dragged himself up-- and out, both of them wincing a little at the separation-- and his lips against David's were lazily soft, as warm as the expression in his eyes. They shifted around each other until they were on their sides, legs tangled, breath mingling, and lay together in silence for long moments before drifting to sleep.


End file.
